


I'm Sorry, I'm Lost

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e22 Commencement, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-12
Updated: 2005-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: It's too late for these things.





	I'm Sorry, I'm Lost

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Title: I'm Sorry, I'm Lost  
Author: Michelle K.   
Site: http://glimmershine.tripod.com  
Pairing: Donna/Amy  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: "Commencement"  
Summary: It's too late for these things.   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

*

**I'm Sorry, I'm Lost by Michelle K.**

The digital clock's red numbers declare the time to be 3:19. The darkness of   
the room lets Donna know it's a.m. The unfamiliarity of the sheets lets her   
know it's not her bed. 

But she knew that already. Sleepiness hasn't dulled the memories of Amy's   
mouth exploring her body, of the anger that seemed to lie underneath it all. Of   
Donna's rage at herself for being seduced by someone who has no respect for   
her. Of the pleasure that washed over her even in the darkest moments.

Of not knowing what was going to happen next.

That's still very pertinent.

When she looks over, Amy's awake, but not looking at her. "Hey," she says   
without moving her head. 

"How long have I been sleeping?" Donna asks.

She shrugs. "An hour. More. I don't know."

"I should go," Donna says, waiting for Amy to stop her. She doesn't, but   
Donna still doesn't move. She pretends it's a product of lethargy. 

Amy looks at her questioningly. Donna expects an inquiry as to why she hasn't   
left. Instead, she gets:

"Was that your first time?" 

"What? No. Why? Was I bad?" Donna stutters. 

"You were good. I just didn't take you for the type."

"The type?" she asks, confused. She waits for an answer. When it doesn't   
come, she says, "You don't know everything."

Amy has so many smiles for so many emotions. This one declares, 'I have   
everything figured out, no matter what *you* may think.' 

Donna hates that one.

"Is this another one of your 'you don't get Josh' speeches?"

Donna wants to protest -- "Go to hell." "Fuck you." Just about anything with   
an angry expletive. -- but she never says those things aloud. She catalogues   
them, hoping that they will come together one day and give her enough backbone   
to at least scowl when someone insults her. 

"Not everything has to do with Josh," Donna says. She licks the lips that   
still taste like Amy, wondering how long the flavor will linger on her tongue.   
Wondering how long she wants it to stay around. 

Wondering what sleeping with Amy really accomplished.

"Just forget about it, okay?" Amy sighs. "It's too early to fight. Or too   
late. Or too...something." She smiles without condescension, but there's still a   
hint of falsity in the tenderness of her touch, like a movie sex scene where   
the woman always keeps her bra on.

But maybe what they share isn't supposed to be real. 

Even so, she surrenders to Amy's mouth and hands, thinking: I don't know what   
I'm doing. 

Adding: And I'm not sure I care.

END 


End file.
